Transcript of 🚙 Jeep: The Car That Saved The World | 4

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Join WNDRI Plus in the WNDRI app or on Apple podcasts. Nick, you remember doing group projects in school?

Jack, do I remember doing group projects in school? No better way to rely on someone else for doing a whole bunch of work over there. We did this one chemistry project on electrolytes, and so I whipped up a whole board with powering, gatorade, which were related to electrolytes.

What did you get for the grade?

I got a C plus. But that's besides the point, Jack, because as a piece of art, that group project was stunning.

The earliest one I remember was in physics in high school. I like this. We had to prove that energy is neither created nor destroyed. It's only transferred.

I think Newton had to deal with that same group project, Jack. What grade did you get on that physics group project?

I'll tell you at the end of the show.

Yeah, it is. Jack and I didn't understand it at the time, but now we get teachers absolutely torture kids with group projects.

Because someday, those kids are going to be faced with a hard problem they've got to solve fast. Fast. They're going to have to solve it with people they don't know or get along with.

Hey, Jack, I think that's the plot of Lord of the Rings.

It's also the plot of the parent track.

It's the plot of the Fast and the Furiouses. All 48 of them.

We've got a name for this, actually. We do. It's called emergency teamwork. The constraints it places on teams can actually lead to triumphant innovation. Great point. Like the subject of today's episode, a product created by not one, not two, but three different companies who are actually competitors of one another, and all while under incredible pressure of both resources and time.

Plus, a freelance inventor who designed it in less time than it takes to rewatch suits.

These folks were responding to a call from the US government in the lead up to World War II, and what they created would help the Allies win the war and then transform the American landscape for decades to come.

Oh, those are some stakes, Jack. And besties, we're not talking about camo, and we don't mean the Manhattan project.

We're talking about the Jeep. The Jeep. If you want a second car and a vehicle for work around the house, and one for hunting and fishing trips, Mister You Want a Universal Jeep. Jeep, the iconic all-wheel drive, all-terrain vehicle. It's part car, part truck, part dune buggy. Also, it's as much cult as it is car. It's absolutely a cult, Jack. Jeep owners tend to be proud Jeep owners. They got community events, they got meetups, they got off-roading clubs. Nick, there's enough Jeep enthusiast websites to break a chassis.

Jack, you see what I'm doing now? I'm doing the Jeep wave. Have you seen the Jeep wave? Jack, if one of our listeners is listening to this pod while driving the Jeep right now, they have to legally pull over and do the Jeep wave back to me right now.

Jeep became one of the Allied forces most powerful assets during World War II. And as a commercial vehicle, Jeep is one of those brands that feels like it's always punching above its weight class.

It does.

It claims less than 3% of the global market share for passenger cars. But the passion around Jeep can be seen in a different set of numbers.

Get this, Jeep has been ranked the number one most patriotic brand in America for over 20 years running.

That's out of every brand.

It beats Levi's, Coca-Cola, Disney, even American Express. Oh, and those guys American Express, they've got American in their name.

Plus, they've become the essential summer transport of beach towns and Tommy Bahama beach chairs across America.

Yetties, this is the story of how Jeep went from the battlefield to the back Yard from 1940s newsreels to millennial music videos, and how a crisis can bring out the best of us if we work together. Jump in, Yetties. We're going to explore because the Jeep is the best idea yet.

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From WNDYR and Teeboy, I'm nick Martell.

And I'm Jack Kravitzsche-Kramer.

And this is the best idea yet. The untold origin stories of the products you're obsessed with and the bold risk takers who brought them to life. I got that feeling again.

Something familiar but new.

We got it coming to your roof. I got that feeling again.

They changed the game in one move. Here's how they broke a robot. Okay, besties. It's May 28th, 1940. We're in Detroit in the Spartan offices of the President of General Martyrs. He's a straight-backed Danish immigrant, aged 61, named William Signus Nudson, but he's 6'3 and a former boxer, so everyone calls him Big Bill.

Jack, I'm picturing Liam Neeson with a Viking hammer and a horned helmet.

You're actually not far off.

Okay, good, good, good.

Big Bill is just going about his day, maybe checking his calendar, doing head of GM things when his phone rings. The voice on the other end is eerily familiar. Bill has heard this voice in dozens of radio addresses and fireside chats. It's President Franklin Delano Roosevelt, and he wants to see Big Bill in Washington. America is probably headed to war. Hitler has already invaded France, and England's brand new Prime Minister, Winston Churchill, is begging the United States for help. But FDR can't just wave his hand and mail Winnie Church some tanks because production of weapons for war in America was basically dismantled after the end of World War I.

As you said in the scene here, if the United States is going to step in again, a can-do attitude isn't going to be enough. We're going to need a serious plan to ramp up production of weapons and supplies on the verge of a second World War.

And this is why President Roosevelt has come to Bill Nutzin, head of General Motors, and not a cabinet member or something. Remember, in World War I, it private automakers like GM and Ford who did the manufacturing of the Army's war materials, everything from submarine chasers to cannons. Now that World War II is on the horizon, FDR names Bill, Chairman of the Office of Production Management or OPM, and then the head of wartime production. A lot of official-sounding titles that basically mean guys in charge of making war stuff.

Right.

Yeah. And Knutzen hits the ground running. Oh, yeah. He draughts a plan to get the country ready. And that plan, it runs right through Detroit. Soon, Packard Motors is making aircraft engines, and Chrysler is making tanks. Ford converts their Michigan factory from F-Series to fighter jets, from Model A's to machine gun mounted. And one of the top items on the agenda, nick?

Oh, they need this car, see?

One of the first agenda items on Big Bill's list is picking up a project the US Army has been struggling with for years. It's not a bomb or any weapon. It's a car.

I'm sorry. Pause the pod for a sec, Jack. I'm going to have to stop you right there. The army has been struggling with something as fundamental, as basic as a car.

A car is putting it too simply. They've been trying to develop an all-purpose light vehicle with specs that seem basically impossible. This thing needs to be able to drive on all types of terrain. That includes beaches, the place where invasions by sea start from. It also needs to be strong enough to transport over 600 pounds of soldiers and gear, including a machine gun. But light enough to air drop from an airplane. It needs to work for scouting and recon, refueling and reupping of ammo, and communicating via radio. Oh, plus blackout lights to make it harder to spot at night. Extremely high standards. This is like Kate Hudson, How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. This is very Kate.

I mean, they're basically trying to mash up a motorcycle, a horse, and a tank in a way that would make Bruce Wayne weep. But the research and development on this ATV, it hasn't been going great.

Has it, Jack? They've been auditioning everything from modified tractors to open-top sedans to something they call the belly flopper. It's like a small sled with big wheels and a machine gun mounted in the front, but you can only drive it by laying face down on your belly.

So, Jack, I'm adding all this up, and none of it adds up to a Batmobile.

And by July 1940, time's basically up. Allied intelligence gets word that the Nazis are working on their own general purpose vehicle with Volkswagen.

Now, Yetties, we talk about arms races in business all the time, like the AI arms race, or the processor chip arms race, or the Spike Seltzer arms race. But this, this is a literal arms race between us and the Axis powers to develop a do-anything, go everywhere military supercar.

So the US Army puts out the call to every American automaker. We're taking proposals. Build us a Batmobile motorcycle horse thing. You got 11 days.

They've got 11 days to pull this off.

nick, Hitler is about to conquer England. So yeah, do the project and do it quickly.

Eleven days to pitch the design and 49 more to deliver a working prototype. It's like a hackathon with machine guns, and I'm getting stressed out hearing about it, Jack.

And crazy timeline or no, automakers are highly incentivized to give this a try. The US Army is about as big a client as it comes.

Yeah, it's huge.

This is going to be a gigantic contract for hundreds of thousands units.

Oh, and Jack, not to mention the brand exposure of making a vehicle that takes down Hitler.

So the call goes out from an office of the Army called the Army Quartermaster Corp to 135 US automakers.

Now, besties, we should sprinkle on more context here. 135 automakers. Forget the big three. This was the big 135. This was pre-auto industry consolidation.

It wasn't just Ford, GM, and Chrysler. Back then, you also had American Bantam out of Butler, Pennsylvania.

Jack, you had Checker Motors out of Kalamazoo. You had Willy's Overland out of Toledo. It goes on and on and on. There were so many car brands back then.

All of these companies have a chance to land what could be the biggest contract of their lives. So they start scrambling to put their best engineers on the job.

Jack, sounds like we're now getting a different arms race, the race for top talent. Because when it comes to hiring, sometimes you're in a buyer's market, but sometimes you are in in a seller's market. But you are never in more of a seller's market for talent than on the cutting edge of a growing industry.

Right. If your company is working on something brand new that only five engineers in the world know how to do, then guess what? Those engineers can work anywhere they want because those engineers will make or break your company.

All right. Without Steve Wozniak, Apple would still mean fruit.

Well, enter the Waz of World War II. The guy who finally helps crack the code on the first Jeep. A middle ex-prodege from West Virginia named Carl K. Probst. In 1940, when every automaker in America is trying to build a supercar, Carl is a freelance engineer with his own consultancy firm in Detroit. But He started out as a certified Wunderkind. At age 13, he built his own steam-powered bicycle.

Hey, smart kid.

That literally blew up in his face.

I mean, hey, Jack, what teenager hasn't built and then blown up a bike?

We've all been there. But that's not Carl's only source of cred. At age 29, he designed one of America's first cycle cars.

Jack, I'm looking at this cycle car right now. Never seen it before. It's like if Fred Flintstone's ride was merged with a Rolls-Royce, that's the vibe I'm getting.

It looks a lot like a normal car, but I guess you use your legs to move it.

Which actually sounds like a new workout craze, but I guess it never really took off.

He called it the Dodo, which is unfortunately fitting since it never gets off the ground and soon goes extinct.

Pro tip yet, he's Don't name your product after an extinct animal. It just doesn't work out, usually.

Only one prototype of the Dodo ever gets made.

Hey, at least it didn't explode, Jack.

But this invention does help Karl make a name for himself as an engineer. He gets a rep for being the engineer you want on your team. So of course, when the Army's request for proposals goes out, he gets a phone call. One company that desperately wants him is American Bantam. They'd already produced a bunch of ATV prototypes for the Army, so they're really hoping to win this bid. But there's more than just one contract on the line. Bantam happens to be on the verge of bankruptcy. They're down to just 19 employees. So if they don't win this bid, they're toast.

The whole company depends on this bid.

And to win this bid, they need Carl. Carl. Bantam's President lays out all the details to Carl over the phone. Yes, we need a design in 11 days. No, there's no money up front. And did I mention our company may go under?

That's a tough sell.

Now, nick, if you are a sought-after engineer and you heard that pitch, how would you respond?

I'd say, Can I at least get a DoorDash gift card?

So obviously, Carl says no. But a couple of days later, he gets another call from a much bigger guy, literally. Nick, you remember Big Bill Nugent? Yes. The GM President, the FDR TAP to lead the war production office.

Of course, the Danish-American Liam Neeson. How could I forget him, Jack?

Well, he knows of Carl from his days at GM, and he knows if anyone can build this crazy GI Joe vehicle, it's this guy. So he calls up Carl personally to try to get him on board. Nick, want to read this quote from Big Bill here?

Jack, it's going to be a tough accent. I'll give it a shot, though. Here we go. This is important to the country. Forget your office. If you bring this off, and I know you can, we'll see that you get some money.

Some money?

That's it. Yeah, hopefully get something.

Well, it must have been the patriotism that motivated him because Carl says, yes, he's in, baby. And now the real work begins. The engineer, Carl Probst, sits in a deserted drafting room at American Bantam HQ in Butler, Pennsylvania. The room echoes. Every little sound bounces off the empty chairs and sloped drafting desks. Carl takes a pile of rejected designs, grabs some thumb tacks, and pins them to the wall. Something must be salvageable all this.

Now, the problem with taking your time to accept the biggest challenge of your career, the clock, it doesn't stop in the meantime. So Carl, he did have 11 days to come up with a viable design for a lightweight general purpose vehicle, But that was almost a week ago. He now has five days to design this thing and deliver the plans Monday morning to the Army Quartermaster Corp 300 miles away. But Jack, like we've said about those group projects, it's That's actually a fundamental law of innovation, isn't it, man? Constraints breed creativity. The more limiting the scenario, the more creative the result.

Now, Carl isn't totally on his own. He's joined by a team, including Bantam's own chief engineer. But even so, there's a ton of pressure to get this right.

I got to get it right.

They get to work. From Wednesday till Friday, Carl draughts nonstop. Imagine crumpled blueprints piling up in the waste baskets till they overflow. Mechanical pencils loaded and reloaded. Graphite sparkling on the smudged drafting tables. No time for food, just cup after cup of black coffee to keep the engineers upright. One by one, Anyone not named Karl Probst goes home until it's Karl alone, working late into the night and then into the dawn. Then on Friday afternoon, Karl puts down his pencil. He stands up and stretches and then goes to the movies. Nice little Friday. There on his desk are the design specs for something called the Jeep, the Blitz Bug.

The Blitz Bug. I guess that works, too, Jack. I mean, are you kidding, though? Forget five days. This guy just got it done in 18 hours. He designed a completely new car concept in less time than it takes a banana to ripen.

Yep, but remember, they don't have the gig yet, nick. Good point. On Saturday, Carl hops in a car with Bantam's President, and they race 300 miles Southeast. To the Quartermaster's Corp's office in Baltimore to pitch baby pitch.

Now, that is a long drive in the United States before interstates were a thing, Jack.

Yeah, but when they finally arrive, they make a terrible discovery. Oh, boy. Someone points out that their vehicle design is 500 pounds heavier than the army specs. Oh, my God.

This thing is overweight, and the weight will affect their ability to fly these things inside of an aircraft. Or for your average grunt to push it out of the mud. It can't be that heavy, but there's no time to fix it.

Monday morning, 9:00 AM sharp, they show up at the army office, and standing nearby are reps from three other car companies: Ford, Willies Overland, and a Cincinnati company called Crosley Motors. So wait, Jack.

Out of 135 car companies in the United States at that moment, there are only four companies total in this competition.

Yeah, that's how hard this assignment was. Wow. Most automakers decided there's no chance, so they never even applied. Makes sense. So four contenders all waiting for the verdict. Everyone shoots some side eye at the competition, and they just sit there and wait as the 30 long minutes go by.

That is awkward, Jack.

Then someone from the Quartermaster Corp emerges. They've reached a decision. Carl's design blew the others out of the water.

Boom. But wait, Jack, what about that thing where they blew past the weight limit?

Turns out nobody made that weight limit, and Carl's application was the most complete. Willy's Overland had the audacity to turn in a sketch, one sketch. And Ford, they didn't submit a design at all.

I mean, Jack, as you're describing it, it reminds me of something we've said before about job applications. Like, forget the requirements It's just apply.

Don't take yourself out of the running just because there's one bullet point in the qualifications that you don't meet. You have no idea which requirements are secretly just a nice to have and not a must have.

And that's basically the situation here, isn't Yeah.

If Karl Probst let the weight limit snafu keep them from submitting their design, who knows how the Allies would have done in Europe without it.

Despite missing that one piece of criteria, the weight, Karl's supercar design was way ahead of the competition in every other way, and that's how it got selected.

But don't break out the champagne for Bantam just yet. Okay. They've designed a kick-ass all-purpose vehicle.

Now, they have to build it.

Bantam starts furiously working on their their tag. They drive their completed Blitz Buggy into an army camp for testing literally 30 minutes before the deadline. It's Carl's design come to life. Bantam has done it. Here's a picture. Take a look.

I mean, Jack, I'm looking at the photo of this thing, and this looks like it's related to a Jeep. It's got that distinctive grill. It's got the right angles. It's very Jeep-ish.

So the army agrees it's ready. They order 70 Blitz Buggies from Bantam. But plot twist, They order prototypes from Willies and Ford, too.

I'm sorry, pause the pot again, Jack. Bantam won the bid. How are their competitors, Willies and Ford, still even in this thing?

It comes down to some new rules around procurement or how the government engages with private companies. The army now has the permission to work with more than one company at a time, so they don't put all their eggs in one company's basket.

Jack, it's like what we saw during COVID, if you think about it. When the US government supported six different pharmaceutical companies in vaccine research under Operation Warp Speed. It's just like that.

The army wants to deploy these Jeeps like we deployed those COVID jabs. So get this. Yetis, they actually make Bantam hand over their blueprints to the competition.

It hurts you. I mean, it's like making Snapchat hand over their algorithm to Mark Zuckerberg. You know what Zuck is going to do with that thing, don't you, man? Zuck is going to zuck it.

The way the government sees it, they're all fighting the same cause. And since Uncle Sam paid for this Jeep design, they can share it with whomever they like. Plus, remember, Karl Probst made these blueprints for Bantam when they were on the brink of going under. Good point. How does the government know Bantam will be able to scale up enough for the war effort? The US Army isn't going to put all its eggs in a basket that only has 19 employees.

Meanwhile, Yetties, remember, it's 1940. Willies, which you may not know today, but at the time was a huge automaker.

So as Bantam cranks out their first 70 Blitz buggies, Willies Overland is building their version. And like any good rival, they add their own little twists. They upgrade the engine, and they add a feature that will be defining for the Jeep.

I assume it's the chassis.

Well, they call their version the Quad because it's a 4 by 4.

Jack, are we talking about the first ever all-wheel drive vehicle right now?

That'd be convenient for this story, but no. The very first 4x4 was an 1824, but that one was powered by steam. It gets us every time. Let's say this is the first 4x4 of the modern era.

We'll round up on this one. So yeti's Bantam, they got the Blitz Buggy. Great name. Willies has the quad, but what's Ford's move, Jack?

Ford unveils their version just 10 days after Willies, and they call it the Model GP for general purpose.

Model GP, Jack. I'm playing around with this in my head.

It almost sounds like Model G, right?

It sounds like Model G, man.

Keep that thought in your back pocket.

I got it, baby.

Three automakers making three slightly different versions has the potential to get messy. Yeah, it does. Our old friend Big Bill Nutson steps into brokerage.

I mean, our Liam Neeson Viking, he's everywhere, Jack.

He's the head of wartime production. What's he going to do?

Play golf there? Good point.

Bill works out a compromise between these three automakers. They'll each keep refining their own version of probed designs. This will let the army figure out which details they like best, and then they'll decide on one unified design, one Jeep, to rule them all.

All right, now I'm really seeing the similarities between this Jeep story and the COVID vaccine jack. It's basically A/B testing at scale.

By early 1941, the army has commissioned 15 1,300 vehicles each for Bantam, Willies, and Ford. The US isn't officially at war yet, remember, but we do start shipping the Allied forces some of these Jeeps that we're making. Nice. The Brits and the French get some to fight the Germans. The Australians and the Chinese get some to fight over in the Pacific. Until December seventh, 1941, when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor. We interrupt this broadcast and bring you this important bulletin from the United Press.

Japanese to detect Pearl Harbor, Hawaii by air.

President Roosevelt has just announced. No more waiting. The United States enters the fight, and America brings with it the vehicle that's about to become a major thorn in Germany's side. So it's 1942. The United States is now at war. So let's take stock of our World War II Batmobile. I love that thing. The standard Jeep weighs just over 2,000 pounds. For context, that's just about as heavy as two grand pianos or half as heavy as a mid-sized SUV.

And not to mention way lighter than a 30-ton Sherman tank that was all over the battlefield, Jack.

Exactly. The Jeep can also carry way more than expected, a payload of up to five soldiers or 800 pounds of cargo. They call it ammunition, artillery, medical supplies, rations, and even small aircraft across all kinds of terrain. The Jeep is built to be modular, too. So with special add-ons, it can become an ambulance, a fire truck, or a makeshift train. Ford even starts making a version called the Seep. That's an amphibious version that can go by land or, you guessed it, by sea.

Now, it ended up having some design flaws, but the amphibious Jeep sounds like the thing that would make the Transformers jealous.

Soldiers use Jeeps to lay telephone wires. They serve as radio patrol cars. You can ship them in by plane, or, I still can't believe this, you can drop them by freaking parachute. Remember, the US is sending Jeeps to all the allies, the British, the French, the Polish, the Russians, you name it. Enlisted men across all those nations' militaries trusted the Jeep.

Nice.

Generals loved the Jeep. Ironically, one of the general's happiest to receive his Jeep is one Joseph Stalin of the Soviet Union.

Oh, and that's not even the wildest part, because apparently the enemy loves the Jeep, too. Get this. When German soldiers would find Jeeps on the battlefield, they would confiscate the Jeeps and drive them more often than they would destroy them. Basically, this Jeep is the vehicle for any soldier at war.

Then on June sixth, 1944, we get D-Day. America and its allies are determined to retake continental Europe from Hitler. So they stage the biggest amphibious invasion in military history.

And Jack, I got to imagine the Jeep plays a critical role.

Oh, yeah. 156,000 Allied troops stormed the beaches of Normandy, taking with them 100,000 tons of equipment and 50,000 vehicles, most of them Jeeps. Over the course of the week, some 326,000 troops land on that beach. Here's why those numbers matter so much. A massive invasion onto foreign soil can go really badly if you don't have a way to get off the beach ASAP. But the Jeeps at Normandy let the invading troops mobilize quickly, get to higher ground, and then go on the offense. D-day becomes the turning point of World War II, and everyone from army generals to Supreme Allied Commander, Dwight D. Eisenhower, say it's thanks in big part to the Jeep. The Army Chief of Staff even calls the Jeep America's greatest contribution to modern warfare.

Speaking of calling the Jeep, Jack, when do we actually start calling this thing the Jeep?

You're going to love this story, nick. Okay, one of the most fun facts about the Jeep is that the name is a bit of a mystery.

Jack, is this Is this a Scooby-Doo type mystery, or is this a true detective type mystery? Do I have to call McConae in for this one, man?

More like a Miriam Webster mystery for the etymology nerds out there.

I'm here for it, Jack.

We know the Jeep started as three different models. Yes. Bantams is the Blitz Buggy, Willies is the Quad, and Fords is the GP. So one theory is that the Jeep is simply a slurring of the GP for general purpose.

Gp, as you say, it works out. Except that GP was Ford's internal technical name for the car.

It doesn't appear anywhere on the body. So most GIs knew it by its other culturally dicier name, the Ford Pygmy.

Okay, well, that's not it. Jack, what's theory number two?

Weirdly, the word Jeep already existed before the car. It's slang from World War I, meaning new recruit.

Interesting. Basically, the 1910s version of newb was the word Jeep.

Yeah. It's possible soldiers see this new untested thingamageg and lovingly call it a jeep.

Well, Jack, honestly, I love this theory, too.

But there's one more, even more adorable theory. You ready for it, nick? I'm so ready for this, Jack. You've heard of the comic strip, Popeye the sailor, right? It came in a thing called newspapers.

Jack, Popeye is the reason I eat spinach six times a day.

Well, nick, back in 1936, the Popeye comic strip introduced a strange and mysterious animal that Popeye keeps as a pet. This is a yellow animal with a big red nose and white pop belly, like a mashup of a Teddy bear and Hobbes the Tiger. This thing can get in and out of small spaces to help Popeye out of a jam.

Jack, I'm looking at this thing and I'm scared by it.

Yeah, he's got interdimensional powers, too. And his name is Eugene the Jeep.

Eugene, wait for me. You got no magical powers, but I got this. Jack, all you're saying is that Popeye is a super popular comic with the soldiers those days. Maybe, just maybe, they name their vehicle that gets them out of tight spots after Eugene, the Popeye character.

I'm not saying it. You just said it. But that is my favorite theory.

Let's roll with that one. I love that one.

However the name comes to be, it gets cemented into the American lexicon during a publicity stunt. A Willy's test driver steers the 4x4 up the steps of the US Capitol. Boom. When a reporter asks what it's called, the driver calls it a Jeep. Or maybe the driver said GP or possibly even Peep, which is what you do from recon vehicles.

I like it.

But whatever that driver said, the article describing the army's new Scout car in the paper the next morning, it published the word Jeep.

As one Jeep slogan says, Legends aren't born, they're made.

By September fifth, 1945, it's official. The Allies have won. The troops are coming home. For manufacturers, this means they can make products again for customers other than the US military.

Get this. For three and a half years during World War II, zero, count them, zero, civilian cars were manufactured in the United States because all the car companies were busy making aircraft carriers and tanks and other things we needed for the war.

But now that the war is over, manufacturers are allowed to make consumer goods again. The US postwar economy kicks off with a vengeance. Unemployment is under 2%. The GI Bill puts money into the pockets of thousands of servicemen. For the first time in years, people have money to spend. And one thing they'd very much like to buy, Jeeps.

But remember, the Jeep was a joint collaboration between three competing automakers. So the big question becomes this, who has right to sell the Jeep?

Okay, so altogether, American Bantam, Willies Overland, and Ford produced an estimated 660,000 Jeeps during the war. What we didn't tell you is it wasn't an even split.

No, it wasn't.

More than half of those wartime Jeeps were made by Willies Overland, around 350,000. Ford was number two with around 280,000. But Bantam, the company that hired Karl Probst and invented the Jeep blueprint, they ended up making less than 3,000 Jeeps or less than half a % of the total.

Jack, that's like being the inventor of the slam dunk, Bob Kerland, if you're curious, only to watch Michael Jordan absolutely crush it with a dunk from the free throw line.

Fantom comes up Bob Kerland in this scenario. They invented the thing, but the army liked Willy's version of the Jeep best.

Well, that was the one with the four-wheel drive, Jack.

Once the war is over, they get to work making Jeeps for the general public. Their first version is called the Jeep CJ2A for a civilian Jeep. It gets a few upgrades that hadn't been available to army grunt, like a tailgate and bigger headlights. Instead of adding bazookas or armored plating, Jeep owners can add seats, snow plows, welders, lawnmower attachments, or even generators, and definitely couple.

I have not seen the lawnmower Jeep yet, but I feel like I need to now see the lawnmower Jeep immediately, Jack. I know.

Willy's civilian Jeep sells $1,090 or just under $19,000 in today's dollars. They move more than 200,000 units between 1945 and 1949.

We know what you're wondering, besties. Why does this Jeep sell so well? Well, because it's the car that the Allies use to win the war. That is brand affinity you can't buy.

That is pride sitting in your driveway.

Because Willies isn't just selling Jeeps. Willies is selling the emotion that comes with the Jeep, the emotion built on the tension and uncertainty of war.

It's the feeling of seeing a bunch of Marines lift the American flag at Iwo Jima.

Actually, McKinsey Group, the consulting firm, they've called this visceral experience a peak moment, the part of a person's decision journey that they remember the most. And peak moments, they really drive consumer behavior. But Jack, we should point out, it's not just marketing and vibes that are making Jeep so attractive to customers at that moment, is it?

There are practical aspects, too, like the whole four-wheel drive thing. As the United States starts building its interstate highway system in the 1950s, for the first time, people had access to more and more remote places across the country.

The 1950s might have been all about drag racing, but for Jeep owners, it was all about off-roading, which you start to see in the Jeep branding.

Besties, we've actually covered some Jeep tag lines over the years in our pot.

I mean, Jack, we're whipping up right here. Jeep, the toughest four-letter word on wheels.

That's from the 1970s. Or how about this one from the '80s? Jeep, there's only one.

Jack, great one right there. But how about this one? Go anywhere, do anything. Jeep.

Now, that's a slogan.

Oh, plus, there's those bumper stickers that say, If you can read this, roll me over.

It's printed upside down.

Yeah, it's got to be upside down.

People start creating Jeep clubs, Jeep meetups. Years later, when the internet comes around, Jeep online forms.

Honestly, it's a shocker to us there isn't a Jeep dating app. Oh, wait, there probably is a Jeep dating app.

There probably is. It's probably called Peeps. And so the Jeep continues to cultivate its adventurous all-American image. And as we said at the top, it starts a 20-year run as the US's most patriotic brand. This despite the fact that the Jeep brand itself will change hands a bunch of times over the years.

Oh, Willies, they don't even hang on to it. Nope.

Willies gets bought out by Kaiser Motors and later passes to American Motors. And then Jeep ended up eventually with Chrysler, which was eventually bought by Fiat, which renamed itself to Stellantis, which isn't even based in America.

Stellantis, the owner of Jeep, is a European company.

But while we're on the subject of who really owns the Jeep, we do have to address one thing. What about Karl Probst, Bantam's engineer who did the blueprints in 18 hours. You may remember that one of the only things Bill Nutzin promised him was that he would get paid. Well, Carl was paid, but just $200. In today's money, that's $4,300.

All right, for helping win World War II, he got 4,300 bucks? This feels underpriced.

Now, Karl never sought glard. He calls it the high point of his career. But at 79 years old, when he was dying of cancer, he decided to set the record straight. On the very last day of his life, he spreads his original Jeep draughts across his bed. When his body is discovered, so are his blueprints.

Wow. Now that is an intense way to share a legacy.

And thanks to him, we have a lot of in-depth knowledge about the Jeep from the design level onward. We couldn't have told this story today without him. No, we couldn't. And who knows, nick? Maybe the Allies couldn't have won the war without him. So, nick, Now that we've learned about the Jeep's dramatic birth under fire, it's Heroics on the Beaches of Normandy. I like it. And it's successful transformation to domestic life.

Whoa, where are we going, Jack?

What is your takeaway?

All right, here's my takeaway. Constraints breed creativity. Because if the army had gone to the automakers with a blank check and a blank page and said, Hey, we just need a car, then we probably would have never gotten the Jeep at all.

I mean, the army tried that, right? In the years before Carl, and the best thing we got was that belly flopper.

Yeah, the belly flopper was a flop, Jack. But when the army handed car makers an almost impossible set of specifications, then that hackathon really paid off. We call this the psychology of limitation. The constraints, they make us more creative. But Jack, what's your takeaway from the story of Jeep?

The formula for a great brand is emotion plus tension.

Emotion plus tension.

For Jeep, the emotion was easy. Yeah. It's about the feeling of victory, pride, and grit. It's the patriotism that this American invention helped defeat one of the biggest threats in modern history.

All right, so that's the emotion, the feeling. But Jack, what's the tension, the contrast in the brand?

The tension is that this car was built for war when it's used today in your domestic life, which is very unbattle-like.

That is a tension.

Do you need a vehicle that can storm the beaches of No.

No.

But the tension of having a car that can makes it exciting to own.

That's the formula for great branding.

Emotion plus tension equals great branding.

But Jack, now we've come to our favorite part of the show. The best facts yet. What do we got? Let's whip them up, man.

Remember Big Bill Nudson? Great guy. The guy you tried to impersonate with that leathery voice.

I did my best attempt. I was trying to do what I could do.

Well, for his contributions to the Allied victory in World War II, he was the first and only American civilian to be named a Lieutenant General in the US Army.

Wow, Liam Neeson could really play this guy. Let's get his age in a script, man. All right, so Jack, here's my fact for you. The Jeep is the only vehicle ever to win a Purple Heart.

Purple hearts usually go to soldiers, not cars.

I thought they only went to soldiers until I read this, man.

The name of the Jeep that got the Purple Heart was Old Faithful. Yeah. And after sustaining holes in the windshield during the Battle of Guadalcanal, the soldiers who drove it successfully lobbied the army to give that car a Purple Heart. Old Faithful, we salute you.

But yet, is the Jeep today? It's basically a Hollywood movie star. Now, it hasn't gotten any plastic surgery. The Jeep has basically kept its same iconic look, but that may be why the Jeep has started so many iconic films. It's been in everything from Saving Private Ryan to The Goonies.

Remember in the Jurassic Park movie? When Laura Dern turns that guy's head to look at the Brontesaurus.

I do remember it, Dr. Grant. As long as you don't get out of the car, Newman, with that one dinosaur with a floppy ears pops out, you're going to be safe in that Jeep.

And how about in Clueless, when Shera accidentally drives on the freeway and she has to pull over, they're so freaking out.

As is.

She's driving a Snow White Jeep that her dad bought her.

Oh, yeah, we should cut her some slack, by the way, Jack. She was grappling with her feelings about Josh. But Jack, we should also point out that Jeep had an on the music industry.

Remember those '90s Jeep mixes with the boosted bass?

Ll Cool J, Cameron, Master Ace, Missy Elliott? Yeah, they all paid homage to their favorite 4x4.

From World War II to Missy Elliott, Jeep really is the best idea yet.

But Jack, before we go, I got to ask you, what was the grade that you got on that group project?

I'm going to round up and say, Hey, nick. I'm going to round up.

Coming up on the next episode of The Best Idea Yet, it's a spicy one. What do we got, Jack?

We are covering Sriracha, and we got some pizza bites that we need to squirt that on.

You got it in your fridge, but you had no idea where it actually came from.

Follow The Best Idea Yet on the WNDRI app, Amazon Music, or wherever you get your podcast. You can listen to every episode of The Best Idea Yet early and ad-free right now by joining WNDYR Plus in the WNDYR app or on Apple podcast.

Before you go, tell about yourself by filling out a short survey at wondery. Com/survey. The Best Idea Yet is a production of WNDRI hosted by me, nick Martell, and me, Jack Ravici-Kramer. Our Senior Producer is Matt Beagle and Chris Gautier. Matt Wise is our producer.

Our senior managing producer is nick Ryde, and Taylor Sniffin is our managing producer.

Our associate producer is H. Conley. This episode was written by Katie Clarke-Ray and Anna Rubinova.

Research by Samuel Fatsinger.

We use many sources in our research, including Arthur Hermann's book, Freedom's Forge: How American Business Produced victory in World War II.

Sound design and mixing by C. J. Drameller.

Fact-checking by Molly Artwick. Our music supervisor is Scott Velasquez and Jolina Garcia from Fries on Sync.

Our theme song is Got That Feeling Again by Black-alack.

Executive producers for nick and Jack studios are me, nick Martell, and me, Jack Ravitja Cramer. Executive producers are Dave Easton, Jenny Lauer-Beckman, Erin O'Flaherty, and Marshall Louis for WNDYR.

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